Only One
by HyperKamikaze9
Summary: Everything happens for a reason right? No. Well, didn't she, our meeting, did that all happen for a reason. No. Really? Well was life as good as it was when you met her? Was it? Was it...Review ppls, and thanx a lot! I'm a bit wobbly...
1. Prolouge of boringness

Blah Blah Blah Disclaimer thingy and Author's note.

Anyways, my first fic being a bit forgotten and demented now, I'm starting something. I promised to myself that I will not forget and abandon this story anymore like my last one. Hehe.

BTW, now this is important!!!!!!

talks very professional-like **Hello. My name is Hyperkamikaze9, and today, I will like to tell you to get bored off with my story. It apparently is quite boring and I hope you will leave and read something else more worthwhile. Thank you so very much. Please accept my gratitude. **jk………..

Also, I add a lot of details at times, so you can get a good pic of what I'm describing. Just to let u kno.

Enjoy everyone! ::snorts and smirks::

** >Only One >**

(a/n: songs by Yellowcard)

I remember driving to the beach in my new striking sea-blue convertible, the ends with a gleam that made passer-bys stare. Now, my convertible is nothing but dirt, rusty navy blue, dents and stains cover the steel of ruined color, washed out. But I will never give it away, with what memories lies in this car.

Those were the days…

**Book one: Only You**

(a/n: oh and every book is based of a song. Only the first book, which apparently is this one, is not based off a song. I would prefer anyone who has the Yellowcard Album to listen to their songs while reading this...)

(a/n: Now, today, I will tell you the proof for the quadratic formula. Now, x to the second power plus bx divided by a equals c divided by a. Now,the new equation after adding b to the second power divided by 4a to the second power to both sides: x to the second power plus bx divided by a plus b to the second power divided by 4a to the second power equals negative c divided by a plus b to the second power divided by 4a to the second power. We simplifies the right-hand side by findig the common denominator and adding the two fractions: x to the second power plus bx divided by a plus b to the second power divided by 4a to the second power equals b to the second power subtract 4ac divided by 4a to the second power. Now there is much more steps, but… **Now, I hope I have bored you enough for you to stop reading this story. Thank you. **Jk……..)


	2. When I met her

well, diclaimer about the i dont' own FF9 and stuff. and like yaw.

of course, my prolouge was to throw u off. haha. reverse psychology...

enjoy this next chappy!

**When I met her**

_Broken this fragile thing now… I can't, I can't pick up the pieces… _

My name is Zidane Tribal. I had no mother, no father, my sister, Mikoto, was a junior. Kuja, my bro, had graduated that time, and was off with his wife, Paige, in Wisconsin, while the rest of us stayed at California. Our guardian was Kiara Jeweling. She was a fine woman, a widow and childless. She adopted us when Miko was 6, Kuja was 11, and I was 7. We loved Kiara a lot.

As the middle child, Kuja of course being older than me, and Miko of course being younger, I was left alone, like I wanted. Kuja was always participating in these retarded (I thought at that time) activities, and Miko was always, as spoiled as she is, always wanting this and that, causing trouble at home. When I was little, I never liked that. I loved Kuja so much that time. I wanted to play with him all the time, he was my older brother and rolemodel. But as Kuja turned 13, and I was 9, he stopped and began a life with girls, smarties, and numerous educational classes. Kuja became a smarty, he was freakin intelligent. He knew almost everything you'd ask him about like, I don't know, the historic things, the bombs, math. He was cool, he always put gel in his hair, and washed it whenever he had the time. There is one thing Kuja cares the same way as his education: his hair. However, Kuja wasn't the same after that.

On the other hand, I hated playing with Mikoto. Miko was a fashion freak, she knew all the newest styles of the month or year whatever it all was, and would take almost 2 hours to find the perfect outfit. Her room was filled with models, designs, and celebrities, it was also pink Pink PINK PINK!!!!! GOSH, I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH PINK SHE HAD!!! She could do the greatest hair-styles, and wore jewelry just right for her outfit. She talked like a drama queen and apparently was one, and was picky about almost everything. She ate like she would die if she dropped a crumb. Miko wasn't fun to play with. I once tried it, and we ended up playing "Barbie dress-up". She has looks, and is nice and all, but she's not cool to be with a boy. Once I had to baby-sit her and her girly friends, and they walked to the mall without even telling me and bought soooooooo much stuff. She blew her allowance and bought a thousand more make-up supplies, even when she had thousands of mascara and eye liner and hair dyes and nail polish and combs and jewelry and eye shadow and lipstick and lip gloss and bluff and all that stuff on her pink make-up dresser. She had tons of pink stuffed animals lined up neatly on her pink bed. God, my sis is sooo… well, it makes me shudder at the smell of what her room had been like. It smelled of too much perfume! laughs, recalling the moment

Me? What about me, Zidane Tribal? My room was covered in pictures drew by famous artists like Van Gogh, and Monet. Pictures of old friends, classes, and girlfriends (duh) stood on one side of my room's wall, and other famous drawings like I said just now filled up the rest of the walls, besides pictures that I drew myself. My room was painted dark sea and shining blue, my favorite color. My friends who see my room think it's different from what they expected, which was pictures of naked girls and huge butts. I would just laugh and say, "Well, now you know I don't do that." I was a punk, a few years after Kuja began his life as a teenager and stopped playing with me. My nature was to flirt with girls, play pranks, and fail in classes. I didn't care about my grades, but I did care about something: I loved art.

Well, after Kuja did turn 13, I began enjoying something so wonderful besides my art. The beach located on Ocean Avenue. I would pour out my emotions to the crashing waves that hit the shore and lay in the soft sand under the sun. I began turning hazelish-brown, unlike Kuja who was as white as colorless candle wax, but I never turned so brown that I looked like an old tree. I would, most of the time, get my canvas board, and brushes an' paint, and draw of things I felt like. I drew many pictures of the ocean, some at sun rise, and sun set. Kiara was always okay of me going to the beach, she felt it was good for me. Sometimes… well, okay. This is a bit embarrassing and yes, I know, it's crazy (which Kuja said once), but… I sometimes talk to the waves. I would talk to it like an old friend always there to listen. Sometimes I showed my picture I drew to the friendly ocean, and the ocean would sent waves of crashing applauding at my masterpiece. I always felt good. People would always walk by and watch me draw, many cute girls, I remember, would sit down and talk with me. They would flirt and laugh with me as we made conversations, I loved being at the beach!

But there was one day which I know I will thank my love for beach and drawing the most, and will never forget.

Dagger Alexandros.

She caused so many memories, and was the best thing that happened in my life. I will never regret that I met her.

I had wore shorts, my long, muscular brown legs were eager to go to the beach of coolness and freeness. I wore just a plain white t-shirt that had the words "Freak" on the front in black. My sneakers were normal converse that I got last Christmas. I looked cool, as usual, and before leaving, Miko took one look at me, I remember laughs, and said, "Good-like- choice- like-like-, Zidane." I never knew how she was able to fit in so many 'likes' to her words.

As I would drive in my sea blue sparkling new blue convertible (like I mentioned before), I would look beyond the road, into the trees, the near-by ocean, the blue clear crystal water swam into my eyes, I would smile. My muscular arms from the numerous sports I played felt the blowing wind, my slick brown and blonde (actually it was somewhat of hazel, like darker yellowish type) that I inherited from Kuja (although Kuja has silver slick hair) blew in the breeze. I felt wonderful.

As I arrived, I gathered my supplies of art and walked down to a clear place of sand, sparkling orange, brown, and yellow. I set everything up securely so the wind won't blow my canvas boards over and spill paint on me. Then I just lay down on my elbows on the warm sand, watching the clear blue ocean greet me.

"Hey," I had said to it, "I'm starting a new picture of you again." I watched the ocean say: " Cool! Make it good! Don't mess up for me, or I'll shower you in my tide of my waves when the high tide comes in!"

I had laughed and sat on the prepared stool, and after ordering my colors of oil paint, began painting. I was an experienced painter, took so many lessons, and those were the only times I actually put effort into it.

I began the wave lines and the shore and the sand and the ocean color. I formed out everything after a moment. I drew the colors and sun lines. After about an hour, I was halfway done. My picture looked okay when I stood up and looked at it from far away, but it still wasn't good enough to be finished. The sun was up full way, shining the ocean and making the water sparkle in front of me. I had smiled.

"Hello."

Someone's voice caught me, it didn't startle me nor surprise me. I was used in having visitors.

I turned around and found myself smiling to a gorgeous girl about my age. She had long, untied, beautiful brown hair blowing to the beat of the wind. Her deep chocolate eyes (like mines) shined, with a puppy look. She wasn't pale, but just a right color in skin. Her smile brightened up her face as she tilted her head, her hands behind her back, and looked at my picture. She was wearing a read spaghetti- top, and short short jeans (which Miko told me was a great style) and her long, slender legs ended off her gorgeousness. She was wearing flip-flops, and she looked curiously at my picture again, seeming impressed.

"Hey. Wassup? We haven't met before have we?"

The girl laughed pleasingly and petite, "You're funny. And no, I don't think we've met before."

I was pleased with her personality. I stopped painting and put out my hand. "Well then, I'm Zidane Tribal. Now we've met."

The girl laughed again in her high voice that was so smooth and pure, like diamonds, "Well, my name's Garnet Alexandros, but call me Dagger. Nice to meet you!"

We shook hands, and I offered her to sit on a spare stool I brought, which I was glad of. I noticed that even the way Dagger sat was sweet and pleasurable. For the first time actually, I was kind of nervous. She made me have this feeling so much more different than I have felt for any girl, even my girlfriends.

"What's this?"

Dagger's hands were resting on the edges of the stool, and she used one to point to my oil painting of the ocean.

"An oil painting of the ocean, another one out of the millions that I drew before," I answered laughing and resumed painting.

"Do you like to draw, Zidane?"

"Oh yeah, I love art like heck! There's no doubt about that. Like, the only class I actually take effort in is art."

Dagger began giggling like heck. I had asked her if I was that funny. She had said, "Yes. You're different from everyone in my school. Or maybe that's because I go to a private school."

We began talking about our daily lives, and our hobbies. The school, the homework, our future goals, everything. Family, education, friends, ect. When I finished painting my picture, I let it out to dry and me and Dagger lay down on our elbows on the sand, talking and watching the ocean.

I found that Dagger went to Lindblum Christian Private High School. I had never heard of it that time.

Dagger was also the only child, her father a rich man, being some famous guy in England or whatever, somewhere in Europe. Her mother was a fat woman that did nothing but eat every day, watching television 24/7.

I also found that Dagger enjoyed dancing, but I've told before by her long, pretty, slender legs and her graceful moves. She said she always danced by this place on the corner of Cherry Street. I knew where she meant. It was another area of beach shorelines with a marvelous cherry color at sun rise and sunset, and besides, that's how it got named. Dagger said she would dance her heart off to the music she would bring, and as she talked, the sun had began to fall, and I watched the color shine on her face. I had to realize… she was so beautiful.

I told Dagger about me. About what school I go to, Alexandria High School, and what my hobbies were, how many girlfriends I had, and like, my family, my punky personality… everything.

Amamzingly, she understood.

(a/n: So, how was that? Please tell me whether the beginning realli did bore u or not. It'll get better. don't wry. and the characters of FF9, they're comin'. R R please! Flamebacks appreciated!Gosh, my stomach reallyyyyy hurts!!!! ANd I was a bit rushy when writing.i'm a bit rusty, haven't been on fanfiction for long time. so anyways,thanx everyone!)


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